


Elijah’s Collection 3 — Play

by cupidsbow



Series: Elijah's Collection [3]
Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Adventure, M/M, cupidsbow, game, series:elijah's-collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-28
Updated: 2008-09-28
Packaged: 2017-10-02 01:20:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupidsbow/pseuds/cupidsbow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elijah plays. Mostly with Orlando.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Elijah’s Collection 3 — Play

**Author's Note:**

> **Thanks:** To my wonderful betas: rosiegamgee, Bron, and my New Zealand consultant michaelchance.
> 
> I’ve never been to NZ, unfortunately, so I owe a big thanks to my Wellington beta and _The Lonely Planet New Zealand_. I’ve tried not to write anything too impossible, but I have taken a few liberties in the name of art.
> 
> As always, I’ve made stuff up. Like, Bent aren’t a real band. As far as I’m aware, there is no author named Raymond Crow. Deathtrap 3 is a figment of my imagination.

### PLAY

** _Every Which Way But Loose_ **

As dusk was closing in, they pulled up at Elijah’s place.

“Home, sweet home,” said Orlando, looking over at Elijah.

“I think,” said Elijah, making no move to get out of the car, “that was the best date _ever_!”

“You’re cracked,” said Orlando. “It was a bloody fiasco from start to finish.”

“No, man,” said Elijah. “It had everything. Think about it!”

“I am,” said Orlando. “Believe me. Who could forget…”

 

###  _REWIND... _

** _Some Like It Hot_ **

Elijah sat behind the make-up trailer in a vain attempt to get out of the gusting wind while he enjoyed a cigarette. He didn’t want to go inside, despite the chill of the wind. He wanted to be in the plainest possible view, on the off chance that Orlando might happen by between takes.

His skin tingled at the thought of Orlando.

Since the day of the Dreaded Make-up Trailer Incident, as Elijah’s brush with the psycho fan had been dubbed by Billy, Orlando seemed to have developed a whole new vocabulary of supportive touching. Elijah was starting to think that sometime, somewhere, Orlando had picked up a black belt in a super-secret, never-before revealed arcane martial art: one devoted entirely to non-erotic touch. Before the Dreaded Make-up Trailer Incident, Elijah hadn’t realised he had so many non-erogenous zones on his body.

It was only after Elijah had started to Collect some of the more interesting of Orlando’s techniques that he had realised there was a deliberate pattern to Orlando’s touch. In fact, taken collectively, the situation wasn’t nearly as non-provocative as each individual touch seemed.

It was embarrassing how long it had taken him to realise that the touching, for all of its comfort, was actually the latest stage in Orlando’s campaign of seduction.

Now that he _had_ noticed, Elijah was pretty sure that it was his own absolute cluelessness about the whole gay thing that underpinned Orlando’s strategy of slow, tentative and utterly mind-blowing foreplay. True, there were days when he wished Orlando would pick up the pace a bit. But they were balanced out by the fact that there were still odd moments when the whole thing felt unreal, as though his libido had been hijacked by some immense tidal force that existed outside of his own body.

The more Elijah thought about it, the more sense Orlando’s game plan made, and the happier he was to play along, trusting that one day soon they’d get to the good stuff.

But playing along didn’t mean he always had to play fair...

Elijah stretched out a little more ostentatiously in his chair.

* * *

** _Shall We Dance_ **

The wind had finally died down and the undiluted warmth of the sun had lulled Elijah into a doze that was verging on deep sleep. It was the gentle touch of a work-roughened hand stroking his neck that roused him.

“Mmmm,” said Elijah, slitting his eyes open. Orlando was looming over him in full Legolas drag.

“It’s hard life for some,” said Orlando, sliding his hand up higher and tugging at Elijah’s hair. “The rest of us have to work for a living.”

“I work for a living...” Elijah thrust his hips suggestively, “...and you’re right: it’s a hard, _hard_ life.”

Orlando’s hand stilled, and for a nanosecond Elijah thought he’d pushed too far. But then Orlando was leering at him with hugely exaggerated lasciviousness.

“Oh _baby_,” said Orlando. “If I thought I could afford you, I’d ask you out on a _date_.”

Elijah’s breath hitched a little. He’d been an actor long enough to recognise a cue when he heard one. And he’d only been waiting for this particular cue for an eternity.

“Mate’s rates for you,” said Elijah fluttering his eyelashes. “And as it happens, I have a gap in my schedule on Sunday.”

“Great,” said Orlando, dropping the act. “I know just the thing.” He stopped touching Elijah and waved enthusiastically at the sky instead. “Skydiving. This weekend there’s a special deal—we can jump from three different planes!”

Elijah blinked a bit at Orlando’s enthusiasm, then stood up and stepped into Orlando’s space. “I’d just like to point out,” he jabbed a finger at Orlando’s chest, and tried not to get distracted by the pleasant give of Orlando’s muscles, “there is.” Jab. “No.” Jab. “Way. In. Hell.” Jab, jab, jab. “I am _ever_ going skydiving.”

Orlando looked down at Elijah’s hand resting against his chest. “Fair enough,” he said. “How about...” and he pressed forward a little, into Elijah’s touch, and lowered his voice so that Elijah couldn’t help but lean towards him, “...paragliding?”

 

###  _FAST FORWARD..._

** _Irreconcilable Differences_ **

Lunch the next day was a miserable affair. It was pouring with a heavy, unseasonably cold rain, and the Catering tent was freezing.

Elijah reopened negotiations while poking disinterestedly at the left-over celery chunks he’d picked out of his salad. “We could go trawling for music,” he suggested. “Sometimes there’s great stuff at second-hand shops.”

Orlando took a huge bite of a sandwich he could barely get his mouth around. Elijah couldn’t help but notice that it had celery in it. A lot of celery. After a couple of chews Orlando managed, “You know how you feel about extreme sports?”

Elijah nodded, while piling his celery into a tower that managed to look almost completely unlike the mashed potato sculpture in _Close Encounters of the Third Kind_. As far as he was concerned, aliens could have all the earth’s celery. It would be no loss to humankind.

“That’s how I feel about shopping,” said Orlando, and took another huge bite of his sandwich.

* * *

** _A Hard Day’s Night_ **

Elijah answered the phone on the second ring. “It’s two a.m., Orlando.”

“You’re awake,” said Orlando. “You just got that new game—Deathtrap 3. You’ll be up until you crack the next level.”

Elijah considered an indignant response for a moment, but then had to make a tricky move so that he wasn’t killed by a fire-breathing troll. “If I haven’t cracked it by Sunday, you could come over and play it with me,” he said, the phone precariously perched between his shoulder and ear.

“About that,” said Orlando. “What about dinner and a movie? That’s a classic, right?”

“Orlando,” said Elijah, “I want to go to a movie right now about as much as you’d want to spend your day off teaching me archery.”

There was silence at Orlando’s end of the line while Elijah narrowly avoided being eaten by giant carnivorous snails.

“I would,” said Orlando. “If that’s what you really wanted to do.”

Elijah pressed the game’s pause button, threw the console down onto the carpet, and grabbed at the phone before it could slide away.

“No way man,” said Elijah. “I mean, it’s cool that you’d do that. But this time has to be something we both want to do. We can get into duty dates later on, okay?”

“If we ever do anything as asinine as a duty date, I’m going to make you watch _Flipper_,” said Orlando, sounding much more cheerful. “Just so you know.”

“Not in this lifetime,” said Elijah, picking the console back up.

“That’s the plan,” said Orlando. “And watch out for the Portal of Draconis. Apparently it’s booby trapped when you go through to the fourth dimension.”

 

###  _FAST FORWARD... _

** _Some Kind of Wonderful_ **

“I,” Elijah announced to Orlando and Viggo, during a short break so that make-up could fiddle with Legolas’s wig, “am brilliant.”

“That’s what all the pretty ones say,” said Viggo. “I prefer pretentious and manly myself,” and with an abbreviated wave of the hand he headed off to talk to Peter and Liv.

“Why are you so brilliant today?” asked Orlando, holding unnaturally still while he was recoiffed to blond perfection.

“Bent’s going to be playing in Wellington this weekend,” said Elijah. “At the Loaded Hog.”

To the disgust of the make-up people, Orlando jerked his head around and stared at Elijah. “That’s fucking brilliant!”

“Yeah,” said Elijah, smirking. “I know.”

* * *

** _No Way Out_ **

Dom skidded into Catering holding a bright green piece of paper. He headed straight over to the crowded lunch table.

“Have you seen this yet?” he demanded, waving the paper. “It’s fucking brilliant!”

“Is that the scavenger hunt thing?” asked Sean, stirring sugar into his third coffee.

“Now there’s a cracked idea for you,” said Billy, edging his chair along.

“Yeah,” said Dom, grabbing a chair from the next table and squeezing it in next to Billy. “Trust the bloody crazy New Zealanders to come up with something this insanely inspired.”

“They have scavenger hunts in Australia too, apparently,” said Viggo. “Hugo was telling me.”

“Yeah,” said Sean. “Chris and Ali are going to love it. It’ll be nice to do something together as a family.”

“In E.n.g.l.i.s.h.” said Elijah. “Because I don’t have a fucking clue what you’re all going on about.”

“Ditto,” said Orlando.

“Are you blind? It’s everywhere.” Dom thrust the paper at Elijah’s face. “The crew have organised a Fun Day For All the Family.” His free hand made sarcastic air-quotes.

Elijah took the paper and held it at a more reasonable distance. Orlando leaned in to read it too, surreptitiously sliding his hand onto Elijah’s knee.

* * *

  
**Inaugural _Lord of the Rings_ Scavenger Hunt and BBQ**

All Welcome! Bring the family.

Sunday, 2pm

Meet at Carter Observatory for Hunt rules.

BBQ afterwards at Scorching Bay.  


* * *

Elijah didn’t find it particularly enlightening. “What does it mean by a scavenger hunt?”

“It sounds unsanitary,” said Liv, wrinkling her nose.

“It’s a game,” said Sean. “You drive around and collect things,” and at Liv’s poked out tongue, “not rubbish, just regular stuff. Like photos of things that match a theme. Or tokens to show you’ve been somewhere.”

“And the winner gets a prize,” said Dom. “The rumour is that it’s one of Catering’s chocolate cakes.”

There was a sudden air of universal interest.

“Mmmm,” said Liv. “I didn’t have anything in particular planned for Sunday anyway.”

“Atta girl,” said Billy, patting her arm.

“If you need someone to go with, just say the word,” said Dom, leering affectionately.

“And share the prize with you lot?” said Liv. “I think not. I’ll ask one of my girlfriends.”

“Hey!” said Dom. “Are you implying we eat a lot?”

“No,” said Liv. “I’m implying that you’re greedy pigs.”

“She’s got you there,” said Elijah to Dom. And then to the table in general, “I’m gonna have to pass. I have other plans for Sunday.”

“Yeah, me too,” said Orlando.

“Elijah,” said Sean, looking serious. “You have to go.”

“I’m sure you and Chris can do it without me, Sean,” said Elijah, winking. “Frankly, I’m after something other than Family Fun this weekend.”

“Woohoo!” said Dom. “Elijah has a hot date.”

“Who is it?” asked Billy. “Anyone we know?”

“You two are the worst nosey parkers I’ve ever met!” said Liv. Then, turning to Elijah, “Details, Wood.”

“I’m serious,” said Sean, interrupting the interrogation. “You have to go.”

“He’s right,” said Viggo. “It’ll be considered a huge snub to the crew if you don’t, Elijah.”

“Oh, come on,” said Orlando. “It’s our day off.”

“Yeah,” said Elijah. “I mean, what the fuck?”

“Do the math,” said Sean. “Your birthday’s next week. You’re the star of the movie. The crew dotes on you.” He picked up the crumpled flyer and waved it at Elijah. “This isn’t just some random event.”

Elijah stared at the innocent-looking flyer in dismay.

“Shit,” said Orlando, and slid his hand off Elijah’s knee.

For one of the very few times in his life, Elijah’s fame felt like a smothering weight, and the words _it’s not fair_ trembled on his tongue. Then, with the sixth sense that told him when a camera was aimed at him, Elijah realised that the woman clearing plates away from the next table was listening to their conversation. And that was all it took for him to remember that he had to work with these people for a long, long time, and that it wouldn’t take very much for the whole experience to turn into one long, unbearable nightmare.

So he did what he had to do; he sucked it up and played his part without once looking at Orlando.

>   
> 
> 
> ELIJAH
> 
>   
> God, I’m an idiot. Of course I’ll go. It’ll be great.

 

###  _FAST FORWARD... _

** _Risky Business_ **

“So,” said Billy to Elijah, plonking his beer down on the sticky pub table with the deliberateness he reserved for important topic changes. “Should Dom and I come around and pick you up on Sunday?”

Dom quirked an eyebrow. “Or will you be going with your _hot date_?”

Elijah had just taken a mouthful of beer and found that he couldn’t swallow it. Of course this conversation would happen _now_. Orlando was still at the studio getting a costume fitting and Elijah hadn’t had a chance to talk to him since their date had been highjacked. He did his best to look mature and calm, but, he suspected, without great success. For a start, it would be a hell of a lot easier not to panic if he didn’t have a mouthful of unswallowable beer.

“He’s going with Orlando,” said Sean, with total certainty, “of course.”

“But,” said Dom, “I thought Orlando had something else...” He trailed off, staring at Elijah. An expression of dawning suspicion slid onto his face with an almost audible whirring sound.

“The penny drops,” said Billy.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” said Dom, looking as though he was about to fall out of his chair. “Am I blind, deaf and stupid?”

“I think that about covers it,” said Sean.

“Ever since the Dreaded Make-up Trailer Incident, they’ve been groping each other pretty much non-stop,” said Billy.

While everyone was looking at Billy, Elijah discreetly spat his mouthful of beer back into his glass.

“Where was I while this was happening?” Dom asked.

“Trying to chat up Liv,” said Billy. “Unsuccessfully, I might add.”

“There’s a surprise,” said Sean. “In a not so much kind of way.”

Dom looked at Elijah accusingly. “I can’t believe Orlando is your idea of a hot date! What am I, chopped liver?”

Elijah shook his head.

>   
> 
> 
> ELIJAH
> 
>   
> Of course not, man. It’s just... _Orlando_. You know?  
> 

“There’s no accounting for taste, is there?” said Billy, rubbing his hand across Dom’s hair affectionately.

“Hey!” Dom said. “I have an idea.” He looked from Billy to Elijah, eyes half-lidded, and licked his lips. “We could...”

“Orlando will kill you if you try anything,” said Sean. “And you’re freaking Elijah.”

Dom looked at Elijah again, without the sexy special effects. He frowned. “Okay, ignore me. I’m being a dick.”

At Elijah’s relieved smile, Dom broke into his usual grin. “But when we whop your arses at the scavenger hunt, don’t think Billy and I are going to share our chocolate cake with you wankers!”

“Dream on,” said Sean. “That cake is mine!”

Elijah did his best to shrug off his discomfort and get back into the spirit of things. “Wanna bet?”

 

###  _FAST FORWARD... _

** _Sunday Too Far Away_ **

“You bet _how much_?” asked Orlando, looking appalled.

“I was nervous,” Elijah explained. “I just got a bit carried away.”

“Two hundred dollars isn’t a bit carried away, Elijah,” said Orlando. “It’s hitching a ride to outer Mongolia on a fucking ox-drawn rickshaw driven by Genghis Khan himself!”

“Before you get too caught up in your insulting metaphor,” said Elijah, “you might want to remember that I’ve never _come out_ before. It’s only because of you that I had to. And you weren’t _there_. I had to do it all on my own.”

Orlando expression changed to concern. “How bad was it?”

“Actually,” said Elijah, slinging an arm around Orlando and leaning in, “I didn’t really have to say much. Dom was his usual clueless self, but it turned out that Billy and Sean already knew. I just didn’t know they knew. You know?” Then, with a sigh, “That didn’t make any sense, did it?”

“Yeah, it made perfect sense,” said Orlando. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

“Well,” said Elijah, lifting his face to a perfect kissing angle. “You could make it up to me.”

“You know my motto,” said Orlando, tilting towards Elijah. “Never look a gift kiss in the...”

_Bom, bom, bom. _

The trailer door rattled under the knocks, and one of the assistants yelled, “Pete’s ready, Elijah,” before moving on to the next trailer and repeating the process for Sean.

“Dammit,” said Orlando. “Why does that keep happening?”

“We’re stuck in a time loop,” said Elijah, glumly. “Like _Groundhog Day_; and Sunday’s never, ever going to get here.”

Orlando wrapped his arms around Elijah and hugged hard. “On the upside... if Sunday never comes, we’re not going to go broke.”

“Oh ye of little faith!” said Elijah into Orlando’s shoulder. “I may have been nervous, but I wasn’t stupid.” He reluctantly let go and stepped away.

“Huh?”

“The rule,” Elijah said, taking another step backwards toward the door, “is winner takes all. If we all lose, no-one gets the money!”

“Ah,” said Orlando, with an evil grin. “So our job is to make sure they don’t win. Okay. I can work with that!”

“Yeah,” said Elijah, reaching the door. “When the time comes, we just have to be ready to play hard.”

 

###  _FAST FORWARD ... _

** _The Day the Earth Stood Still_ **

Elijah stood in front of his nearly-empty wardrobe. Most of its contents were now scattered around on the floor, his bed, and all other available flat surfaces.

What did a teenager of uncertain sexual orientation wear to a scavenger hunt masquerading as a secret birthday surprise party that was actually a first date, anyway?

* * *

** _The Pick-up Artist_ **

“Cool shirt,” said Orlando, standing in Elijah’s doorway looking tall, tanned and lickable.

In the end, Elijah had gone for a light grey long-sleeve T-shirt. It’s main feature was a series of rubber decals embossed across the front. A green triangle labelled ‘Play’ sat over his right nipple, ‘Rewind,’ ‘Fast Forward’ and ‘Pause’ stretched across his chest, and a red square labelled ‘Stop,’ lined up with his left nipple.

Orlando reached out, his finger hovering above the Play button. “It makes me want to press your buttons,” he said.

Elijah smiled. “You already do, man.”

Orlando grinned back and, much to Elijah’s disappointment, moved his hand to the middle of Elijah’s chest and pressed the Fast Forward button.

“Good to know,” Orlando said.

* * *

** _The Lord of the Rings_ **

Karen thrust a sheet of instructions through the car window at Elijah. “Here you go. Don’t forget to read the rules.”

“Have you see Sean and Chris or Billy and Dom yet?” Elijah asked.

“Billy and Dom came through about ten minutes ago,” Karen said, “but I haven’t seen Sean yet.” A car pulled up behind them. “Gotta go. Good luck guys.”

“Those sneaky bastards,” said Elijah. “They’ve got a head start.”

“Don’t worry,” said Orlando, looking grimly determined. “We’ll cross paths sooner or later. And when we do...” He put the car in gear with all the menace of an evil mastermind who had an evil lever which, when pulled, would release evil killer eels.

“Are we meant to do an evil laugh at this point?” Elijah asked. “Except it’s something I’ve never really mastered.”

“What do you think this is?” asked Orlando, heading the car downhill. “A movie?”

“Ha ha,” said Elijah. “With comedic talent like that, I have no hesitation in recommending that you don’t quit your day job.”

“Everyone’s a critic,” said Orlando. “So. What’s first on the list?”

* * *

** _Ten Things I Hate About You_ **

>   
> **Inaugural _Lord of the Rings_ Scavenger Hunt**
> 
> To win the title of ‘Lords of _The Lord of the Rings_,’ teams must collect each of the following items. Judging will take place at Scorching Beach once all competitors have checked in.
> 
> **Rules:**   
> 
>   * Obey the law. In particular...  
> 
>   * Don’t steal anything! Photographic evidence will be accepted if you wish to collect something that can’t be removed from its location. Photos should contain at least one member of your team.  
> 
>   * No more than $5.00 can be spent on any item of the hunt.  
> 
>   * Extra points will be awarded for originality, humour and artistic interpretation.  
> 
> 
  
> 
>
>>   
> **Hunt Items**
>> 
>> The One Ring
>> 
>> Sting
>> 
>> A Wizard
>> 
>> A Dark Rider
>> 
>> Mines of Moria
>> 
>> Horn of Gondor
>> 
>> Two Towers
>> 
>> Mirkwood
>> 
>> Shelob
>> 
>> The Cracks of Doom

“You’ve got to be bloody kidding me,” said Orlando. He stopped the car, reached over and grabbed Elijah’s wrist, pulling it towards him so that he could see the instructions.

“Unfortunately not,” said Elijah. “You know, some days I really _hate_ J.R.R. Tolkien.”

“You and me both,” said Orlando, his fingers brushing gently over Elijah’s knuckles as he let go.

* * *

** _Gone in 60 Seconds_ **

As Orlando re-started the car, a bright red convertible came barreling towards them. It whizzed by so fast the windows rattled.

“Oh my God,” said Elijah, whipping his head around to watch the car make its way up the curve of the hill. “Did you _see_ that?”

“That depends,” said Orlando, taking off his sunglasses and looking at them suspiciously. “If what you just saw was Xena: Warrior Princess driving a porche like a maniac, with Liv in the passenger seat, then yes, I just saw it.” He put his glasses back on. “Otherwise, I’m obviously delusional.”

“If that was a delusion,” said Elijah, “we should warn the people in hazmat suits, because it must be pretty fucking _contagious_.”

* * *

** _First Contact_ **

“Sting’s easy,” said Elijah. “We can take a photo of the Beehive.”

“Everyone’s going to think of that. There’s got to be something better,” said Orlando. “You’re always wandering around shopping for music. Use that encyclopedic brain of yours and come up with something brilliant.”

“Right,” said Elijah. “Why do I suddenly get the impression that you want to win this sucker?”

Orlando flashed him a grin. “Probably because you know me.” They pulled up at an intersection. “So, which way?”

“Well, if we’re not going to the Beehive, you might as well head for Te Aro,” said Elijah, flipping the Street Directory open to their current location. “There’ll be plenty of options there.”

“Okay,” said Orlando. He flicked a quick glance at the map book. “Does that thing tell you where the nearest Police Station is?”

“Do I even want to know why you’re asking me that?” Elijah said, with genuine trepidation.

“Because,” said Orlando. “I’ve just had an idea for the One Ring.”

* * *

** _We’re No Angels_ **

Elijah stood on the front stoop of the Police Station mugging for the camera. He had his finger poised a couple of millimeters away from a button bearing the inscription, “For Assistance After Hours Ring Buzzer.”

“Hurry up!” he said, while Orlando fiddled about with the digital camera. “I feel like a dork.”

“Yeah,” said Orlando, finally taking the picture. “But you look like an _angel_.”

“Bastard!” said Elijah. “Take it back!”

Orlando silently held out the camera and showed Elijah the picture. Reflected sunlight had ringed his head in what could only be described as a halo.

“It’s cute,” said Orlando. “I think I’m going to get a print.”

At the look on Elijah’s face, Orlando turned and sprinted for the car, the camera clutched tightly in both hands.

Elijah glared at Orlando’s retreating back and then, longingly, at the buzzer. For the first time since winning the role of Frodo, he truly understood the seductive lure of the Ring.

* * *

** _Unforgiven_ **

“Are you still giving me the silent treatment?” asked Orlando, driving aimlessly.

Elijah stared out the window, watching the streetscape.

“For fuck’s sake,” Orlando said. “If it means that bloody much, delete the thing.”

Elijah pressed a hand against the window and turned to watch something go by. “Stop the car!”

Orlando pulled the car into the curb, switched the engine off and turned to face Elijah wearing his inscrutable look. “Are we done then?”

“No dickweed,” said Elijah. He pointed out the back window.

Orlando craned his head around. “What?”

“The trucks,” said Elijah.

“What about them?” asked Orlando looking at a couple of tow trucks parked next to each other in the driveway of a closed petrol station.

“There’s two of them,” said Elijah.

“So?” said Orlando.

“The two _tow_...ers,” said Elijah.

Orlando swivelled back around to stare at Elijah. “That,” he said with admiration, “is completely fucking _inspired_!”

“Yeah, well,” said Elijah. “Don’t think I’ve forgiven you.”

“I don’t suppose you could give me a timeline on that?” said Orlando.

Elijah undid his seatbelt and opened the door. “I’ll let you know.”

* * *

** _Crash_ **

“It’s my turn to take the photo,” said Elijah, holding his hand out.

Orlando hesitated.

“The thought of drop-kicking the thing into the street did occur to me,” said Elijah. “But I promise I won’t damage it. Or your pictures.”

“It’s not that,” said Orlando.

“What then?” asked Elijah, with some impatience.

Orlando shrugged self-consciously.

Elijah pressed a hand to his forehead. “This is me attempting to read your mind.” He closed his eyes and frowned. “No... no... Nothing. It’s a big empty void.” He screwed his eyes up tighter. “Wait! I’m getting something... it’s faint and kind of primal... no words or intelligent thought... just brute instinct... but I think I can make something out.” Elijah’s eyes popped open. “You want to piss against a lamp-post!” He looked at Orlando expectantly. “Am I right?”

“You’re a real riot, alright,” said Orlando. “I _was_ going to say that I wanted a photo of both of us, but I think I’ve changed my mind.”

They stared at each other, separated by three potholes, a scree of loose bluemetal and a tsunami of attitude.

* * *

** _Dogma_ **

Elijah broke first. “Why did you have to make that angel crack?” he asked. “You know I hate that.”

“So I gather,” said Orlando. “But until today, the only time you’ve ever mentioned angels to me was during that pick-up line contest of Billy’s. You didn’t seem all that overwrought about the issue then.”

They stared at each other some more.

“_That man_,” said Elijah. “You know... Tom... that’s what _he_ called me. His angel.”

Orlando breathed out hard, and rubbed a hand across his face. “You never told me.”

“And,” said Elijah, and then didn’t seem to know how to go on.

“Please tell me there haven’t been others,” said Orlando, his inscrutable look back with a vengeance.

Elijah shook his head. “No. Most fans are fine, and the few psychos out there don’t get near me very often.”

“That casual reference to psychos is a pretty good effort at distracting me,” said Orlando. “But no dice. Spill!”

Elijah scuffed a shoe against the loose stones. “Can’t we just do this,” he said, and waved at the tow trucks.

“No,” said Orlando, his jaw a straight line of tension. “Unlike you, I don’t have any pretensions as a mind reader. You have to actually open that usually unstoppable mouth of yours and tell me this stuff. Otherwise what’s the bloody point?” In three big strides he crossed the potholes and closed the gap between them. “If I wanted to fuck around with someone I don’t know, there are easier choices.”

“Pot and kettle, man.” Elijah stopped kicking the stones and met Orlando’s intense gaze. “It’s not like we’ve ever had a mutual confess-a-thon.”

“Fair point,” said Orlando. “I travel pretty light in the emotional baggage department, which is why it hasn’t come up so far. There’s really just the sad and sorry saga of my back injury.”

“Which I know practically zilch about,” said Elijah.

“I figured it’d probably come up some day when we were trying to do something...” Orlando grinned, “_enthusiastic_.”

“Don’t flirt _now_,” said Elijah, an avalanche of x-rated pictures falling into his head. “That isn’t playing fair.” Orlando was still looking entirely lickable. “Besides, I can’t believe you really want to hear this crap.”

“I don’t want to be your bloody shrink, Elijah,” said Orlando, “I just want to know about stuff that’s important to you.”

Elijah thought about that for a moment.

“The thing is,” said Elijah, groping his way to the words, “when people call me stuff like that, it means that I’m less...” he clenched his fists, “... less me.” He looked away from Orlando. “Because they want me to play a _part_ for them.” And then, with sudden anger, “They don’t want Elijah; they want _anyone_ but Elijah. They want the star. They want the actor. They want the pretty boy. They want the rich kid. They want the perfect, perfect _angel_. And I’m _sick_ of it. I don’t want to play their games anymore!”

A car with a faulty muffler chugged by, momentarily polluting the air with its din.

“Ian once said something that’s stuck with me,” Orlando offered, once the car had moved on far enough for the street noise to return to a normal level. “I was feeling really out of my depth and about a million years younger than everyone around me, and as an actor I felt a total fraud—like someone would figure out that I was just pretending to know what I was doing.” Orlando smiled. “Somehow Ian knew exactly how I felt. Hell, maybe he felt like that once; it wouldn’t surprise me. That man has more layers than an onion.”

“More layers than a ballerina’s tutu,” Elijah interjected.

“More layers than a never-ending gobstopper,” said Orlando.

“Gah,” said Elijah. “Ian and suckable things in the same thought—not a place my brain wanted to go.”

“Serves you right for interrupting,” said Orlando. “Anyway, to return to the point, Ian said: ‘Orlando, there’s a fundamental rule of life that we all learn once we’re too old to make full use of it. That rule is that when we grow up, we don’t stop playing—we just move on to a new stage.’”

“A new stage?” Elijah said, smiling for the first time since the angel comment. “God. Ian is such an actor! How many acting aphorisms does he have, anyway?”

“Hopefully,” said Orlando, reaching out and sliding his hand into Elijah’s, “one more than we’ll ever need.”

* * *

** _Picture Perfect_ **

Orlando propped the camera on the bonnet of his car, carefully lining it up so that both tow trucks were in the frame. “I’m setting it to take three,” he called. “Just to be sure.” He pressed the button, and sprinted over to Elijah.

Side-by-side they leaned against one of the trucks, Orlando slouching a little so that their shoulders were touching.

* * *

** _Kiss of the Spider Woman_ **

Elijah looked up from the map. “What about Webb Street? That could do for Shelob.”

“Weak,” said Orlando. “Weaker than tea made from a three-day-old teabag.”

“True. But I can’t think of anything better,” said Elijah. “Can you?”

Orlando put the car in gear. “Webb Street it is.”

* * *

** _Ruthless People_ **

They drove down Webb Street looking for a parking space near a street sign.

“There’s one,” said Elijah, pointing.

Orlando kept driving. “I just spotted Billy and Dom. They obviously had the same idea.” He pulled into a side street and parked.

“So, evil mastermind,” said Elijah, “what’ll we do to nobble them?”

Orlando tapped a finger against his lips. “I think we should stick with simplicity. There’s less chance of it going horribly wrong.”

“Let me guess,” said Elijah. “I act as a decoy, while you do something juvenile to their car.”

* * *

** _The Delinquents_ **

Elijah circled around his targets, trying to blend in with the other, non-scheming, pedestrians. He wanted to keep the element of surprise for as long as possible. Fortunately, Billy was busy polishing an apple on the crotch of his pants like a cricket ball, and Dom was oblivious to everything except his camera.

Down the street, Elijah could see Orlando squatting next to Dom’s car, on the side hidden from Dom and Billy’s view. The nobbles of Orlando’s spine were visible, pressed against the soft cotton of his shirt as he deflated one of the tires.

Elijah waited for a car to go by and then sauntered casually across the road, reaching the other side several metres away from Billy and Dom. A series of expletives wafted towards him.

“Work, you fucker,” said Dom to his camera. “Stupid son of a bitch.”

Elijah hesitated, waiting for the right psychological moment to begin his distraction.

“Brilliant strategy you’ve got there. It won’t dare misbehave now,” said Billy, and bit into his apple.

Elijah moved to stand behind a mailbox, out of Dom and Billy’s line of sight. The top of Orlando’s head bobbled along behind the car as he moved on to a second wheel.

“It’s not bloody brain surgery,” said Dom, fiddling with the camera’s buttons. “I just have to press...” The camera suddenly came alive in his hands; it whirred, zoomed out its lens, and took a flash photo of Dom’s shirt.

“I have a suggestion, Doctor,” Billy said, around a mouthful of fruit. “Read the instructions.”

“Fuck off,” said Dom, glaring with equal heat first at Billy and then at the camera.

Orlando moved around the car and peeked out from behind it. Elijah pointed to Billy and Dom and then drew a circle in the air next to his own temple. Orlando nodded, and moved out into plain view. He paused a moment, watching, then started in on the nearest tire.

“Why don’t we just steal the bloody street sign?” asked Dom.

“Because that would be _wrong_,” said Billy, crunching happily.

“That’s not a reason,” said Dom. “That’s just being a wuss.”

“How about,” said Billy, “stealing is against the rules and will get us disqualified.” He took another big bite, finishing the apple. He looked around, spotted the rubbish bin right next to Elijah’s mailbox, took a couple of running steps and bowled the apple core. It sailed into the bin, and Billy fisted the air triumphantly. He turned back to Dom. “Being disqualified would mean we’d lose the bet.”

Orlando crab-scuttled along a few feet and started in on the final tire.

“Buggeration,” said Dom. He looked down at the camera.

“The instruction book’s in the car,” said Billy, helpfully. “I could get it for you.”

Elijah tensed, ready to shout a warning to Orlando and run like hell.

“No,” said Dom, starting to press buttons again. “I’ve nearly got it.”

Elijah sighed in relief. He stepped away from the mailbox, heading back the way he’d come.

“Sure you have, Dom,” said Billy, folding his arms and leaning against the Webb Street signpost. “By the way, did I ever tell you about the time I went fishing and snagged the Loch Ness Monster?” Then, notching up the sarcasm, “What are the fucking odds, eh?”

* * *

** _The Getaway_ **

“They’ll know it was us,” said Elijah as he did up his seatbelt.

“I should bloody well hope so,” said Orlando. “After all that effort.”

As they turned back into Webb street, Elijah caught a quick glimpse of Billy taking a photo of Dom, who was standing under the street sign wearing a scowl.

“Hey,” Elijah said. “We forgot to get a photo.”

“They’re welcome to it,” said Orlando. “It was a crap idea anyway.”

“Yeah. If Billy and Dom could think of it…” said Elijah. “You know, all that sneaking about has made me thirsty. I could murder a beer.”

“Now that,” said Orlando, “is a damn good idea!”

* * *

** _Signs_ **

They stood inside the Matterhorn, staring at one of the beer advertisements stuck up on the wall.

“So Frodo,” said Orlando. “What do you think those industrious dwarves drank after a hard day delving in the Mines of Moria?”

“Well, Legolas,” Elijah replied, “at a guess, I’d say it was a Miners beer.”

Orlando got out his wallet. “I think we’d better test that theory.”

* * *

** _Total Recall_ **

“Not bad,” said Elijah, examining the beer label. “I wonder why it’s called Miners?”

Orlando shrugged. “You’d have to ask a local. And speaking of arcane local knowledge, what do you remember about that America’s Cup stuff the Kiwis are always going on about?” He nudged his empty bottle very slightly towards Elijah; they were pressed together, shoulder to knee, on the same side of a booth that really wasn’t all that cramped.

“As little as possible,” said Elijah, draining the last of his beer and putting both bottles into a plastic bag they’d cadged from the barman. “Why?”

“The yacht that won was called... Black something,” said Orlando.

“All their teams are called Black something,” said Elijah. “It’s kind of freaky if you ask me.”

“Black Voodoo?” Orlando mused. “No.”

“It’s like they’re a nation of vampires,” Elijah said. “Or Goths.”

“What the fuck was it?” said Orlando. “Black... Mojo?”

“They even have the freaky face paint thing going on,” said Elijah. “It’s psychological warfare, pure and simple.”

“It’s got something to do with magic,” said Orlando, “as in _wizards_. But it can’t be Black Magic, can it? That’s way too obvious.”

Elijah and Orlando looked at each other.

“These are the people,” said Elijah, “who’ve made an art form of baked bean sandwiches.”

“Assuming it is Black Magic…” said Orlando.

“Pretty safe fucking assumption there,” said Elijah.

“…the real question is whether it’s a close enough link? All Tolkien’s wizards have colours,” said Orlando.

“Shit yeah!” said Elijah. “So where do we find this yacht?”

“No idea,” said Orlando. “But I bet I know where we can find a bloody big picture.”

“There’s probably a shrine,” said Elijah.

“Yep,” said Orlando. “And it’s called Te Papa.”

“Cool,” said Elijah. “I haven’t had a chance to go there yet.”

“Shhhh. Don’t let the locals hear that,” said Orlando. “They might get up a lynch mob.”

* * *

** _Detour_ **

They had walked companionably for about three blocks, having decided to enjoy the sunshine while it lasted, when Elijah suddenly stopped in front of a shop called Arty Bee’s Books.

“Wait here for a sec,” Elijah said over his shoulder, plowing into the shop like an ice-breaker through Antarctic waters.

* * *

** _Forgotten Silver_ **

Orlando had just started to wonder if he should go in too, when Elijah emerged carrying a book.

“What was that about?” asked Orlando.

“I just remembered that there’s a bargain bin in there, with all sorts of crappy old books for a couple of dollars each,” said Elijah. He held the tatty paperback out to Orlando.

The cover, despite its faded and scratched condition, was a garish illustration of a short-sword being dramatically thrust skyward by a disembodied hand. The silver was beginning to flake off the sword, giving the whole thing a slightly diseased look.

“_The Dirk of the Dreamspeller_, by Raymond Crow,” Orlando read out, looking vaguely appalled. “Read much of this kind of stuff, do you?”

“Looks crap, doesn’t it,” said Elijah, cheerfully. “But it has the sword on the front and…” He flipped the book open to reveal that the flyleaf was stamped with a happily buzzing bee. “…the bookshop’s logo.”

“Oh, I get it,” Orlando said, with relief. “Sting.”

* * *

** _Heavenly Creatures_ **

A moment after turning the corner, Orlando grabbed Elijah’s arm and pointed. Walking along the street were two dark-haired women; they were both tall and beautiful, and they were both busy licking rapidly melting ice-cream cones.

“That,” Orlando said, “is _definitely_ Xena!”

“Yeah,” said Elijah, “and that’s definitely Liv _with_ her!”

As Orlando and Elijah watched, Xena held out her cone and Liv took a lick.

“Is it just me,” said Orlando, “or did it just get hot?”

“Hot,” said Elijah. “Definitely hot.”

* * *

** _Parenthood_ **

When they’d arrived at Te Papa they had walked out into the Bush City garden, looking for a shady nook in which Elijah could have a smoke. Instead, they had ended up standing at the edge of an enormous sandpit; a sandpit which just happened to contain Sean. He was in the process of being buried to the waist by his daughter and wife, and looked entirely cheerful about his predicament.

“Call me a sentimental fool,” said Elijah, stubbing out his cigarette, “but I really don’t want to do anything to spoil their day.”

“It is unstoppably cute, isn’t it?” Orlando slid his arm around Elijah’s waist. “Besides, I have a _thing_ for sentimental fools,” he said, dropping a kiss onto Elijah’s neck.

“A _thing_?” said Elijah, shivering at the touch of Orando’s lips. “What kind of _thing_? Like, a crazed stalkery thing? Or a wham-bam sex thing? Or a ‘geez you’re a mad Yank, aren’t you’ thing?”

“The answer is... D,” said Orlando. “All of the above.”

Elijah shivered again, but this time it was because Orlando had let him go; and even though there were no clouds in the sky, the world seemed to darken for a moment.

* * *

** _The Frighteners_ **

They stood in the foyer of Te Papa, trying to find a likely display on the map.

“None of these sound very hopeful,” said Orlando. “And why is the flora and fauna section named ‘Mountains to Sea’? Last time I looked Mountains and Seas weren’t alive.”

“Naming conventions in museums are one of the eternal mysteries of life,” said Elijah. “What about this one? Golden Days.”

“It sounds like a 70s sitcom. And it’s in the kids’ section,” said Orlando. “Why _on earth_ do you think it would have a picture of a _yacht_?”

Elijah shrugged. “Golden Days sounds like out-doorsy kind of stuff to me,” he said.

Orlando snorted. “I didn’t even think of that. You’ve obviously had way too much practice at translating museum-ese.”

“Welcome to my misspent youth,” said Elijah, and then, with a sudden jab at the Special Events section of the map, “Bingo! There's one here called _Seafarers_.”

“Thank god,” said Orlando. “I was starting to think we’d have to go look for pictures in the postcard rack at the souvenir shop.”

“Don’t worry,” said Elijah, grinning. “We’ll keep _shopping_ as a last resort.”

“Do I make fun of your personal foibles?” asked Orlando. “No. I think not.”

“But that’s the fun part!” said Elijah, completely unrepentant. He leaned forward to have a closer look at the map’s fineprint. “It says Seafarers is ‘an interactive display commemorating historic voyages in the south seas.’”

“Interactive?” said Orlando, with an over-the-top shudder. “Now there’s a word to chill the heart. I think I’m afraid.”

“If you can jump out of a plane without losing your lunch,” said Elijah, “I think you can face a few hokey push-button dioramas and educational videos.”

“When it comes to raw terror,” said Orlando, “I know from long and bitter experience that extreme sports have nothing on interactive ‘educational’ displays.”

“Don’t be such a baby,” said Elijah, grabbing Orlando’s arm and dragging him further into the building.

“Mark my words,” said Orlando, darkly. “We’ll live to regret this.”

* * *

** _The Woodlanders_ **

Having taken a wrong turn at some point, they were now wandering along a corridor looking for a helpful sign.

“Oh my God,” said Elijah, his attention snagged by a photograph hanging on the nearest wall. “Look!”

“What?” asked Orlando, moving closer and hooking his chin over Elijah’s shoulder.

As Elijah pointed out the photo, Orlando’s breath on his skin set off another shiver. “There was an All Black player called Colin ‘Pine Tree’ Meads,” Elijah said, noticing that his hand was trembling too. He tucked it into his pocket.

“Okay, that’s just weird,” said Orlando. “Not to mention the whole Black plus Tree thing.”

“Yeah,” said Elijah. “I think we just found our Mirkwood.”

“You’d better be in this photo,” said Orlando. “So we have lots of Wood with the Mirk.”

“Oh, you slay me with that original wit,” said Elijah, the words annoying him more than they had any right to. He knew he was wearing a frown as he moved to stand next to the picture.

“That’s absolutely perfect,” said Orlando. “Don’t change a dark and broody thing!”

* * *

** _Dazed and Confused_ **

Elijah walked back out of the Seafarers display and re-checked the sign.

“It doesn’t say Toy Boats For Every Occasion,” Elijah said, walking back in. “It definitely _says_ Seafarers.”

Orlando stood looking at the flotilla of miniature vessels in something like ecstasy. “Model ships,” he said. “Lots and lots and lots of model ships.”

“Okay,” said Elijah, eyeing Orlando doubtfully, “I don’t even want to know; just try not to slobber too much on the glass.”

* * *

** _Practical Magic_ **

“I found it!” called Orlando, from behind an enormous model of Captain Cook’s wood-and-sail ship, Endeavour.

The Endeavour model was so big that Orlando was completely hidden from Elijah's view; and its push-button sound recording (in a voice that sounded suspiciously like John’s) of Cook’s journal entries (with a background ambiance of waves and seagulls), was almost loud enough to drown out Orlando’s voice.

Elijah walked around the behemoth that was Endeavour, and joined Orlando in the alcove in which he’d found the model of Black Magic. They were surrounded on three sides by miniature rigging, keels, masts and what seemed to be miles of shiny glass casing; and even though there was nothing overtly wrong with any of the displays, something about them made Elijah feel bizarrely unnerved and jittery. “Give me the camera,” he said, holding out a still-shaky hand, “and let’s get this over with.”

“You know, with the name Black Magic, I was half expecting it to have black sails and a flag with the jolly roger on it,” Orlando said, fascinated by the ship and oblivious to Elijah’s mood. “But no. It’s all rather disappointingly normal.”

“Can you indulge your pirate fixation some other time?” Elijah asked. “This place is creeping me out.”

“Aye, aye Capt'n,” said Orlando. He adopted a suggestive pose in front of the yacht. “Come on then. _Take me_.”

* * *

** _Point Break_ **

Elijah felt cranky and out of sync with the world as he lifted the camera up to his eye. He looked through the viewfinder, centering on Orlando, who was standing there flirting in his slow, careful way. Letting Elijah know that one day soon he’d make a move; and Elijah was sick, sick, _sick_ of waiting.

Elijah was a fair way towards being in a towering snit, when Orlando smiled.

“Click, click,” Orlando said.

It was _that_ smile—the special one that Orlando saved just for Elijah—and suddenly all Elijah’s emotions were clogging together in a big, confusing lump, lodged deep in his lungs. It felt like he was breathing something dense and sticky; it certainly wasn’t air.

The floor was tilting beneath him like a wave-tossed deck; and right there, right then, in the middle of Seafarers, Elijah was listing on the lip of the world—a never-ending fall beneath his feet.

His finger trembled on the button...

>   
> ** _C… L… I…_ **
> 
> …and Orlando looked crisp and beautiful, framed by the viewfinder…
>
>>   
> Elijah knew how seduction worked. He’d played this game before.  
> 
> 
> …and then the world fractured like a kaleidoscope as Elijah blinked…
>
>>   
> But it was different with Orlando; because this time, everything about the game was designed to keep Elijah safe.  
> 
> 
> …breaking into random colours and oddly shaped chucks of reality…
>
>>   
> Rules. Limits. Boundaries.  
> 
> 
> …swirling together…
>
>>   
> All set by Orlando. Because, at first, Elijah had been so unsure; too confused to know what he wanted.
> 
> …then apart…
>
>> But why was Orlando still playing the game, when he could just take Elijah whenever he wanted? 
>
>> (_Come on then, said Orlando, take me_)
> 
> …reforming into a whole new pattern…
>
>> Elijah was more than willing now. 
> 
> …a pattern that had always been there, but that Elijah had been unable to see…
>
>> In fact, Elijah was so tired of waiting, he was starting to think about making a move of his own.
> 
> ** _FLASH_ **
> 
> …and at the heart of this new pattern was Orlando…
>
>> And like a lightening strike, Elijah suddenly wondered whose _turn_ it was to make the next move.
> 
> …clear and beautiful in the viewfinder, saying _take me_, come on, _take me_…
> 
> ** _… I… C… K_ **   
> 

Elijah’s finger lifted off the button. He let his arms drop down to his sides, a little splayed. Trying to get his balance back.

“Come on. Let’s blow this joint,” said Orlando. “I’ve just had an idea for the Horn of Gondor.”

Elijah shook his head, still reeling. “No,” he said. “No.”

“You haven’t even heard the idea yet,” said Orlando, and then gesturing enthusiastically, “if we get a…”

“Stop!” said Elijah. “I don’t give a shit about the Hunt anymore. I need a minute here.”

“What’s wrong?” Orlando asked, walking over and wrapping him in a loose hug.

“I think I just had a revelation,” said Elijah, closing his eyes. He could almost taste Orlando’s breath. “I want to know… Orlando, did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” asked Orlando, sounding confused.

“You said,” Elijah hesitated; opened his eyes and looked at Orlando. Saw his confusion, concern, affection.

“Said?” Orlando asked.

It slowly dawned on Elijah how truly tired he was; tired of playing this game with Orlando. He was ready and more than ready to… to move on to a new stage. He could feel his pulse fluttering in his tongue, and his palms were so slippery he had to stuff the camera in his pocket so that he wouldn’t drop it.

Everything felt out of control, and Elijah desperately needed to ground himself somehow; so he pressed his hand, palm flat, onto Orlando’s chest. “You said,” Elijah managed, without sounding quite as scared as he felt, “‘_take me_.’” Beneath his touch Orlando’s heart was racing fast, as fast as Elijah’s, as fast as the world was spinning and changing. “And I want to know... if you _meant_ it.”

* * *

** _The Unbearable Lightness of Being_ **

 

“Of course I bloody _meant_ it,” Orlando said, looking exasperated. “God Elijah. If you don’t make a move soon, I’m gonna fucking…” His lips twitched into a little smile. “… well, if I said _die_ it’d be kind of over the top.” He rubbed Elijah’s back, setting off another wave of shivers. “But I’m definitely starting to feel a bit… _overwrought_.”

“Oh,” said Elijah. Overwrought was a feeling he was quite familiar with himself. Elijah was so hot, he felt like he was going to melt, and Orlando looking at him as though he were edible wasn’t helping. He licked his lips.

Orlando’s gaze flicked to Elijah’s mouth. “Don’t tease the animals, Lij. It’s not—”

“I _want_ you,” said Elijah, seesawing wildly from fear-to-want, want-to-fear, but at Orlando’s look of gobsmacked lust, he crash-landed on the side of want; no thought, all instinct, do-me-now _want_. “_God_, I want you,” he said, and he was so hard; hard and in Orlando’s arms, and it was the only place he wanted to be.

Elijah pushed himself into Orlando, and Orlando made a little breathy noise as their bodies came together. Elijah caught the sound in his own mouth as he kissed Orlando hard. Hard, hard, hard. Wanting to be inside Orlando; just to crawl right inside and inhabit his skin.

Orlando staggered back under Elijah’s onslaught, until his shoulders were up against glass. Then, with a full-body jolt that Elijah could feel as though it were his own, Orlando got with the program and started kissing back. Kissing like a starving man faced with a feast after an eternity on short rations.

The feel of Orlando’s lips sliding against his own redirected the kiss away from so hard it almost hurt, into a frantic, slippery wrangle of tongues and lips and teeth.

Elijah felt like he was going to shiver out of his skin. “God,” he panted between kisses. “I want you _now_, Orli.” He jumped up and wrapped his legs around Orlando’s hips, the press of Orlando’s hard-on against his own making his heart stutter so fast he felt light-headed with lust.

“Fuck, Lijah,” said Orlando, rocking his hips. “The car’s fucking _miles_ away!”

“Fuck the car,” said Elijah, with a clarity born of desperation, “cab,” kissing Orlando’s throat, “hotel,” biting down hard.

“Hhhn… there’s a hotel,” said Orlando, hands moving to grip Elijah’s arse, pulling him in tighter, “across the street,” scraping Elijah’s earlobe through his teeth.

“Do that again,” Elijah demanded, rubbing his thumb across one of Orlando’s nipples. He tilted his head to give Orlando better access

Orlando, breathing hard, looked at Elijah’s exposed neck and said, sounding strangled, “If we’re going to make it to a hotel…” and at Elijah’s impatient wriggle he gave in and licked along the faint edge of Elijah’s beard line. When he’d finished, he looked up, his eyes dilated black, “We’re going to have to stop. Now.”

Even hearing the frantic edge in Orlando’s voice, Elijah was tempted to go for it right there, between Black Magic and the Endeavour. But then, even over the roaring of his want, his sixth sense pricked, and when he looked up he saw the security camera, clinging to the corner of the ceiling like a big, black cocoon.

“Fuck!” he said, trying to get back some control.

>   
> 
> 
> ELIJAH
> 
>   
> Okay. Stopping now. But don’t give me any shit. I’m right on the edge, man.  
> 

“Yeah,” said Orlando, his eyes still stoned with lust. “Do whatever you have to do, Lij.” He slowly unclenched his hold on Elijah.

Reluctantly, Elijah slid back on to his own feet.

>   
> 
> 
> ELIJAH
> 
>   
> I think I’m gonna need a minute here.  
> 

“Me too,” said Orlando. His eyes skated over Elijah, “God, you look like you’ve just been…” he trailed off with an audible swallow. “I’m going to go find some water,” he said. “Cold water.”

* * *

** _The Crossing_ **

They crossed the road to the hotel like two strangers; enough space between them that there was no chance of any accidental touching.

* * *

** _Bedrooms and Hallways_ **

Orlando slid the key into the slot and turned the handle with the careful deliberation of someone who wasn’t too sure of his control.

Elijah followed him into the room, and then stood, staring at the bed, as Orlando locked the door.

Orlando turned around, took one look at Elijah and said, “You can just quit that right now!”

Elijah looked back at Orlando, eyes so wide open it hurt.

“We don’t have any condoms or lube, Lij,” Orlando said, reassuringly. “The most we can do is some creative groping.”

Elijah let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. “Okay,” he said, the heat starting to hum under his skin again, “groping sounds good.”

* * *

** _Love and Other Catastrophes_ **

Somehow, Orlando seemed to have kissed his clothes off. Because when they’d started kissing near the door, Elijah had been fully dressed, and now both he and Orlando were naked.

With a final kiss, Orlando pulled away and walked over to the head of the bed. He grabbed the edge of the covers, and with a single smooth move, shucked them all onto the floor, leaving just the bottom sheet and an empty expanse of bed.

Elijah could barely spare enough attention to be impressed by Orlando’s efficiency, because Orlando was standing there... naked.

“You’re,” said Elijah, his dick so hard he could barely breathe, “so hot.”

“Not as hot as you,” said Orlando, kneeling on the bed. “Come on.” He patted the mattress.

Elijah walked over and slid onto the bed, mouth dry.

Orlando shuffled closer, until they were knee to knee. Then he reached out and wrapped his hand around Elijah’s dick.

If Elijah hadn’t already been shaken to his foundations, looking down to see Orlando’s tanned hand striped against the flush of his own skin would have been enough to do the job. Orlando’s touch was rough and sure, and Elijah’s stomach coiled with pleasure; notching up and up with each stroke. Elijah couldn’t stop shivering; waves racing up and down his spine in endless relays.

“God,” he said, clutching at Orlando’s shoulders, “God.” And then Orlando’s mouth was on his, and the last thread of rational thought went right out the window.

He was racing towards orgasm when Orlando pulled his hand away. Elijah opened his eyes, wondering briefly when he’d closed them. “What?” he asked.

Orlando was looking at him, mouth slightly open, the stoned look back in his eyes.

“Lie back,” said Orlando. “I want to suck you off.”

Elijah’s dick jumped. Blow jobs were still enough of a novelty, without the promise of Orlando’s tongue into the bargain. Elijah lay back.

Orlando’s mouth was wicked and slippery, and what he was doing bore no resemblance to the fumbling attempts of the girls Elijah had been with before.

Elijah’s throat ached with the sounds being ripped from him; breathy, sobby noises that would have been embarrassing if his last shred of modesty hadn’t been sucked out of him by Orlando. He scrabbled at Orlando’s too-short hair, but couldn’t get a decent grip. Orlando’s tongue was clever and relentless, and, Elijah suddenly realised, _practiced_. Elijah arched up in ecstasy, totally aware, for a brief flashing moment, of the four years difference in their ages. Because, God, if _this_ was what four years of experience brought, then Elijah _wanted_ it.

Orlando’s tongue was pushing him towards orgasm again, and he was rushing, rushing ever closer to the edge. And then his eyes rolled back in his head, every muscle seized, and with a hoarse shout, he came. It went on and on. And on. Until the final wave of it crested, leaving him lying there, limp and exhausted, too tired to even protest as Orlando moved away.

When Elijah opened his eyes, Orlando was lying next to him, head propped on a hand, watching him.

“Fuck,” Elijah said, his voice rough. “That was...”

“Believe it or not,” said Orlando, grinning, his eyes shiny with want, “it actually gets better than that.”

“Oh God,” said Elijah, as his body flinched in aftershock; and Orlando’s hand was stroking his stomach, soothing him through it.

Once he could breathe again, Elijah rolled over, draping himself across Orlando, and giving him a big sloppy kiss.

“I think,” Elijah said, his face pressed against Orlando’s collar bone, “I might be kinda gay.”

“Yeah? What a coincidence,” said Orlando, his voice a husky murmur. “Me too.”

Orlando was tense under Elijah’s hands, his cock rubbing against Elijah’s hip, hot and hard, and impossible to ignore.

Elijah was at something of a loss; there was so much Orlando to explore, and Elijah only had two hands, one mouth, and a dick that was currently out of commission, to do it with.

He tentatively cupped Orlando’s cock; Orlando’s hair was springier than his own, but otherwise, everything felt surprisingly familiar.

“Mmmm,” Orlando hummed in approval.

With growing confidence, Elijah gripped hard and started to stroke, picking up the rhythm that he liked best himself.

It was a strategy that reaped immediate rewards. Orlando groaned and started writhing under Elijah; his hips pressing up into Elijah’s hand.

“Yes,” said Orlando. “Like that. Just like that.”

Elijah’s mouth watered at the sight of Orlando, who was flushed and gorgeous and who smelled like every erotic dream Elijah had ever had. Elijah wasn’t quite confident enough to try out a blow job, so, careful not to lose his rhythm, he wriggled down until his mouth was level with Orlando’s chest.

Elijah tentatively licked a nipple. He got a happy moan in response. So he did what his teeth were really aching for, and bit down.

Orlando nearly levitated off the bed.

“God,” Orlando said, panting. “Biting is a real thing for you isn’t it?”

Elijah backed off. “Sorry, I won’t—”

“Don’t you dare fucking stop!” said Orlando, lifting his hands above his head and gripping the headboard. “Who knew that oral fixation of yours would finally have a use?”

Elijah stared at Orlando, lying there, stretched out like an offering. Waiting impatiently for his touch. And, God, _this_ was a game that he could really… get on top of!

Elijah licked his palm, wrapped it back around Orlando’s dick, and started his patented must-come-now stroke. At the first kick of Orlando’s hips, Elijah pounced. Licked his way up Orlando’s stomach, pausing briefly to tongue his bellybutton, then on, on, biting along the line of his ribs, then up along his sternum until he reached nipple height. Elijah slowly spiralled in towards a nipple.

“God, you’re a fucking _tease_,” said Orlando, watching him though slitted lids.

“Lie there and take it like a man,” said Elijah, licking the nipple until it was tight and red. He blew on it gently.

The bedhead creaked under Orlando’s grip.

“Hurry up,” Orlando begged. “God, Lij, just _do it_.”

Beneath Elijah’s hand, Orlando was slick and frantic, thrusting desperately into his grip.

Elijah sucked the nipple into his mouth, playing it between his tongue and teeth without any real force. And Elijah was _loving_ everything about this. _Everything_ about Orlando: the way he smelled of musk and sex, the salty taste of him, the way he was trembling beneath Elijah’s touch.

Elijah bit without any warning; bit hard. Let go, then bit again and held on as Orlando bucked beneath him.

Elijah eased off, licking with a quick swipe, before leaning over and biting the other nipple as hard as he could without drawing blood.

“You utter, utter,” Orlando gasped, “bastard!”

Elijah twisted the nipple between his teeth. And with a ragged cry, Orlando was coming; letting go of the headboard and grabbing onto Elijah, his body bowing into curl as he came, spunk lathering his stomach and Elijah’s hand.

Then Orlando was pulling hard at Elijah’s hair, hard enough to bring tears, and Elijah reluctantly unclenched his teeth. As soon as Elijah’s mouth was free, Orlando pulled him into a greedy kiss.

They collapsed backwards onto the bed, still kissing.

“God,” said Orlando, finally pulling away for a breath. “That was bloody fantastic.”

“Yeah,” Elijah agreed, flopped over Orlando in complete exhaustion. “You smell amazing.”

“We both _reek_ of sex,” said Orlando, his fingers stroking through Elijah’s hair.

Elijah happily snuffled at Orlando’s armpit. “Yeah.”

“You’re a bit of a pervy hobbit at heart,” said Orlando, “aren’t you?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” said Elijah, fighting back a yawn.

Orlando smiled seductively. “But I fully intend to find out!”

Elijah playfully bit Orlando’s arm in response.

“You may be a bloody energizer bunny,” said Orlando. “But I need a minute to recharge.”

“Poor old man,” said Elijah, quite happy to lie still; his muscles feeling like overcooked noodles.

They lay there, silent and content, until Orlando’s breath started to deepen and slow. Elijah poked him.

“Don’t go to sleep,” he said. “I have to go show my face at this fucking barbeque… lose the Hunt gracefully. Let the crew make a fuss of me. All that garbage.”

Orlando groaned. “Do we have to?”

“Yep,” said Elijah. “Life will be unbearable on set if we don’t.”

“Well, in that case,” Orlando said, “unless it’s your plan to scare the natives, we’d better go have a shower pretty soon.” Then, with a leer, “‘Cause it might take us a while to… _get clean_.”

“I don’t think all the showers in the world could get _us_ clean,” said Elijah, leering back.

 

###  _FAST FORWARD ... _

### RE-PLAY

** _Every Which Way But Loose_ **

As dusk was closing in, they pulled up at Elijah’s place.

“Home, sweet home,” said Orlando, looking over at Elijah.

“I think,” said Elijah, making no move to get out of the car, “that was the best date _ever_!”

“You’re cracked,” said Orlando. “It was a bloody fiasco from start to finish.”

“No, man,” said Elijah. “It had everything. Think about it!”

“I am,” said Orlando. “Believe me. Who could forget… the never-ending speeches, the whole angel thing, the cheesy fantasy novel, the bad puns…”

“Sabotage, cars and trucks and things that go, famous sports trivia, ice-cream-licking godesses,” said Elijah. “Not to mention alcohol and pirates...”

“I don’t remember any pirates,” said Orlando. “I remember temper tantrums, Billy and Dom swearing dire revenge at some unspecified point in the future, never finding the Horn of Gondor…”

“With you, there’s _always_ pirates,” Elijah pointed out, before carrying on with his list. “Seafarers, seduction, Sean being buried alive, great photos,” then he gestured enthusiastically at the cake sitting in his lap. “Birthday cake!”

“Okay, granted,” said Orlando. “The cake is a plus.”

“Admit it, sour puss,” said Elijah, “You loved every minute of it!”

Orlando reached out, resting his hand on the headrest of Elijah’s seat, his fingers gently stroking Elijah’s neck. “I’ll admit there were a few highlights,” he said, smiling.

### PLAY

** _End of Days_ **

“Like Liv and Xena winning the Hunt!” said Orlando. “The look on Billy and Dom’s faces was priceless!”

“I _still_ can’t believe Liv is friends with Lucy Lawless,” said Elijah. “She is one _hell_ of a lot of woman.”

“You’re telling me,” said Orlando.

“So much for the whole gay thing,” said Elijah. “She can break me in two anytime she likes!”

Orlando laughed. “I wouldn’t say that around Liv, if I were you.”

“Yeah, I was getting that vibe too,” said Elijah. “Veeerrrry protective of her new friend.”

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, watching the last of the light fade from the sky.

“So,” said Elijah, as stars began to glimmer, “wanna come inside?”

“What for?” asked Orlando. “_Coffee_, or to see your _etchings_?”

“No, I was thinking we could _play a game_,” Elijah said.

“Deathtrap 3, I suppose,” Orlando said, amused.

“If that’s what takes your fancy,” said Elijah, leaning over for a kiss. “But I’m happy to play any game you like,” and just before their lips made contact, “you know, I have a whole Collection of them we can choose from.”

### STOP


End file.
